


Rescue

by Moon_Blitz



Category: Midsomer Murders - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 11:36:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6077907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moon_Blitz/pseuds/Moon_Blitz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A case is solved, and Troy is rescued.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rescue

Rescue

He jerked awake as the door above banged open and feet pounded down the stairs, blearily wondering if his captors had finally remembered to feed him. “Troy? Troy!” Barnaby shouting his name brought him fully to his senses, and he smiled. Rescued at last.

“Here, sir!” he called as loudly as he could, grimacing at how thin his voice sounded.

“Troy!” The relief was evident in the inspector’s voice as he hurried over to where Troy was chained up, kneeling next to him a moment later. “Constable, get on that ambulance! And find some bolt cutters or something!” he snapped over his shoulder. Barnaby turned back to him then, raising a hand to touch the steel manacles that encased Troy’s wrists. Like everything else in the dungeon, it was done in a medieval style, but crafted in solid steel.

“Are you alright?” Barnaby asked at last, running his other hand over his body to check for injuries.

“Better now, sir,” Troy answered wearily, the flood of heat Barnaby’s touch sent through his body making the dungeon seem even colder. His must have shivered or something, for the inspector quickly took off his jacket and tucked over his shoulders and chest. Troy nodded in thanks, keenly aware of how he must look after two days in captivity.

“How...?”

Barnaby raised a hand, silencing him. “Not now, Troy.”   
  
The same hand slid up his cheek to the dried blood on his forehead, and Troy grimaced as he explained. “Hodgeston hit me with a wrench when I came to interview him, and dragged me down here.” Barnaby nodded, already turning his attention once more to the manacles. “Jenstone has the key,” he added.

“Then it’s probably at the bottom of Midmarsh Pond. Where  _ is _ that ambulance?”

Troy couldn’t help but smile at the look of annoyance on the inspector’s face. “Even speeding, we’re half an hour out from Causton. They’ll be here soon.” Barnaby let out a low murmur of acknowledgement, hands sliding over the chafed skin of his wrists. Troy flushed as Barnaby’s fingers met his, instinctively grabbing onto them. “You’re hands are warm...”

The justification for the sudden hand-holding was weak, but Barnaby seemed to accept it, instead twisting around to study the rest of the room. It had probably been a wine cellar at some point, but Jenstone had converted it into a nightmarish dungeon, complete with various torture mechanisms, all pointy edges and razor sharp. “They didn’t use this stuff on you, did they?”

“No sir. Hodgeston threatened to a couple times, though.”

“I’m sure he did.” Barnaby turned back to him as Troy shifted, making the steel chains clank, seeming to realize just how exhausted his sergeant was. “Rest until the ambulance gets here, Troy. I’ll stay with you.”

Troy closed his eyes and nodded, feeling another flush of heat go through him as Barnaby dropped a light kiss on his forehead. There would be time enough later for detailed explanations and the like. For now, he would just take comfort in the fact that Barnaby was here and holding him close.


End file.
